


so i find out your reason

by cosmicpoet



Category: Black Mirror (TV), Black Mirror: Bandersnatch (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Asthma, Drugs, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 16:49:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17605148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmicpoet/pseuds/cosmicpoet
Summary: When Stefan follows Colin to his apartment, he feels like he can't breathe.Colin reminds him exactly how to do that.





	so i find out your reason

Whatever entity is controlling him, Stefan is glad that they agree upon him following Colin down the street. As much as he _knows_ he should visit Dr. Haynes, that would be a step into the territory of his mental health, and he won’t confront it as much as he can understand it; there’s terror in his heart whenever he realises that he isn’t completely able to make decisions for himself. Ignoring it isn’t healthy, but it’s better than having to drag out past trauma, stretch it out into the light and let someone else examine it, pick it apart. Not his father, not Dr, Haynes, not anyone.

Not even Colin.

So why? Why follow him? There are questions about _Bandersnatch_ on his mind, ruminating on this mental rut that he’s stuck in, and he won’t find the answers to those sitting opposite a psychiatrist. It’s like Colin said - there needs to be a little madness. There’s no reason that he can’t go out and find that for himself.

“Hey,” he says, his voice shaking only slightly; he hopes that Colin doesn’t notice.

“How’s Bandersnatch?”

_Shit. Straight to the point._

“N-Not good. I’m just…I’m just lost.”

“You’re in the hole.”

“In the…what?”

“In a fight with your own head.”

“Yeah. Yeah that’s…that’s it.”

“You got anything to do today?”

“No.”

“Come with me.”

Then he’s following Colin. There are no decisions here, only his footfall in time with Colin’s, leading him down streets and alleyways until a high rise building begins to creep out against the sky, silhouetting itself, blocking out the light of the sun. With every step, it seems to rise and rise until it must be unstoppable, and this is where Stefan is destined to go.

To Colin’s apartment. _Colin Ritman’s own apartment._

There’s domesticity in here, but it isn’t directed at him. He can’t explain why - or, he could, but it’s a possibility that he won’t confront - he feels left out, jealous, when he sees someone else inside the apartment. It’s not like he hates her; he doesn’t even know who she is. But Colin introduces her as Kitty, and the baby in her arms is Pearl - _“daddy’s little legacy” -_ and Stefan’s heart breaks and breaks.

When they sit apart from each other, the distance could not be greater. Stefan envisions oceans, filled with all the insignificant drops that they require, pushing them further from each other; waves against an immaterial shore, lapping and gurgling and laughing at the tears that almost spring to his eyes. The cup of tea in his hands grounds him, almost, and he lifts it to his lips with shaking fingers against the china, thinking of how much this single cup must have seen - the gradual descent into the anarchy of love that Colin and Kitty must have felt, the apartment settling into itself, how damn _happy_ Colin must have been when he became a father. None of these moments involve Stefan. Damn it, he shouldn’t even _be here,_ intruding onto the genius of Colin Ritman. He knows that Colin must see him as a burden, even if he won’t say it. Because why would he think otherwise? Stefan’s just a coworker to him. In fact, right now, there’s no doubt about the fact that Colin isn’t arsed about his mental health, only _Bandersnatch_ and the reputation of Tuckersoft.

He begins to panic. Those waves, separating him and Colin, come thick and fast now, saltwater washing over him. It’s like he’s swallowing it, gulping it in, gasping for air that simply won’t come to him; he’s sure that his lungs are full of the ocean, and that this must be death. Oh, god, this must be what his mother felt when the train derailed, crushing her under rubble, fire and smoke curdling in her lungs. She must have tried to scream. _She must have tried to scream._

Bad thought. Trauma resurfaces, the only thing that seems to rear its head beyond the waves. He’s going to die just like his mother, alone and scared, and it’ll be his fault again. Stefan Butler, killing his mother; Stefan Butler, killing himself; Stefan Butler, completing the trifecta and leaving his father to rot and die alone.

“You’re right in it, mate,” he hears Colin’s voice, muted and dimmed from above the water that he envisions above his head. And the last thing he wants is to add _‘being a burden’_ to the list of reasons that he must be hated - he wants to reply, to default to his usual response that he’s fine, but no words come out.

“Shit, you’re…Stefan?”

He keeps choking. There’s a rustle of fabric and, through glazed and watery eyes, he can see that Colin is standing up and coming to his side.

“Right,” Colin says, his voice calm and level as always, “this isn’t good. This normal?”

Trembling, Stefan grabs onto Colin’s arm and tries to nod.

“Asthma attack. Seen ‘em before. You got an inhaler?”

Stefan thinks that he must look pathetic, slapping the pocket of his jacket as his hands spasm out of control. It’s been a solid minute now, and his vision starts to blur - there are spots of grey and black at the edges of his vision. Like static. Like a fault in the code that crackles and creases the fabric of reality until a full reset is needed. 

He feels Colin’s steady hand in his pocket, grasping the inhaler. Now, he’s completely powerless. _And he hates it._ Tears prick his eyes with every failed gasp, his mouth open, begging for air, for retribution - even for death; anything that would end this sooner than having to confront the aftermath of the wrong choice.

“Stay calm. It’s no use to anyone if you panic. I’m assuming you’ve had to use an inhaler before.”

Colin’s got his hand at the back of Stefan’s head now, gently teasing his curls like a lover would, holding him still as he tilts him slightly backwards. He shakes the inhaler and looks Stefan dead in the eyes, like this is all routine to him, like he’s done this a thousand times.

“Breathe out.”

Stefan could almost laugh. He has no breath to do _anything_ with, and it isn’t helping that Colin is so close to him, guiding his mouth to the inhaler.

“Deep breath in.”

Stefan follows the order as Colin presses down on the inhaler. A feeling of relief slowly encompasses him, restoring order to the imbalance of whatever pitiful universe lives inside him. He can do it on his own from here - this is by no means the first asthma attack he’s had in his life - but Colin is so steady, so assured, and it’s easier to just lean into him and, eventually, breathe out.

“There we go,” Colin says, “crisis averted. You good?”

Stefan nods. Relaxation seeps back into him, and the tiredness of an attack hits him full on; his muscles, having been clenched, suddenly loosen, and he falls like a rag doll with his head on Colin’s chest. Immediately, he feels embarrassed, but before he can move or apologise, Colin is playing with his hair with one hand, the other resting against his chest.

In this exact moment, with the infinitesimal stars in these positions where they should remain forever, and the world pausing in solemn understanding of the magnitude of this beauty, Stefan Butler realises that he very much enjoys being held by Colin Ritman.

“Better?” Colin asks.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s a lot, actually. I could have died.”

“Then we’d just try again until I know how to deal with an asthma attack.”

“How _do_ you know?”

“Let’s just say it’s trial and error.”

“I…I’m sorry. I mean…I…”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not.”

“You won’t…you won’t tell anyone, will you? Not even Kitty?”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.”

“So why are you worried?”

“It’s…I guess it’s in my nature.”

“And you think I’ll suddenly cause you public ridicule by revealing the shockingly scandalous secret that you have asthma?”

“Not that.”

“Then what?”

“This.”

“Oh.”

“I…I’m sorry…I…” Stefan feels an impulse to run away, but Colin shifts his hand downwards, linking his fingers into Stefan’s, softly stroking Stefan’s hand with his thumb.

“Would you feel better if you knew a secret about me?”

“Why?”

“Make the playing ground even.”

“I don’t want to…exploit you.”

“It’s not exploitation if I offer.”

“Y-Yeah…go on then.”

“Alright. Kitty isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Y-You’re…married?”

“You’re one of the smartest people I know, and that is ridiculously dumb. _So_ off the mark.”

“What do you mean?”

“She’s gay, Stefan. So am I.”

“B-But…but Pearl…?”

“Is the best thing to come out of a terrible situation.”

“She’s…she’s your _daughter.”_

“Yep.”

“And Kitty’s?”

“Yep.”

“So…how?”

“We both tried to fix ourselves. Not that there’s anything to be fixed, but this timeline isn’t the most tolerant. One night of acid and wrong choices and the next thing, I’m sitting in a clinic with her while we discuss abortion.”

“And you…you didn’t want to…”

“Nah. She said she wanted to keep the baby, and that was that.”

“You’d sacrifice your whole life for her?”

“It’s only one life, Stefan. And she’s a good person. It’s one thing to be a single mum, but a lesbian single mum? She’s strong, but there’s only so far you can get with strength.”

“So you just live together? That’s all?”

“Yep. It’s easier on Pearl, and we’re mates. It’s a good arrangement.”

“I didn’t know…I…I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologising for things you didn’t do.”

“I’m -” Stefan stops himself before he can say sorry again. Colin laughs a little, resting his chin on Stefan’s head.

“Y’know, she’s forever trying to set me up with guys,” Colin mutters.

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. She’s got a girlfriend, works in a record store. Which is how I got a first edition _Flashpoint_ vinyl.”

“And you? Any…”

“Any guys I like? Yeah, suppose.”

“Oh.”

“C’mon, Stefan. Your mind’s too full of _Bandersnatch.”_

“W-What do you mean?”

“Too caught up in your head. Can’t see the wood for the trees.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“It’s you, Stefan.”

“What is?”

“The guy.”

“That you…?”

“Yep.”

“R-Really? Why?”

“Justifying something so inherent would cheapen the authenticity.”

“Oh.”

“And you? Any -”

“Yes!”

“That was quick.”

“You.”

“Right,” Colin says, “glad we cleared that up.”

“So…where do we go from here?”

“I think we go and make a cup of tea and drop some acid, but the choice is on you.”

“I trust your choices.”

“C’mon then,” Colin leads him to the kitchen, getting two mugs out and putting teabags in both of them. Absentmindedly, Stefan peels a post-it note off the counter.

_‘I’m taking Pearl to my gfs. Go get ur man!! <3’_

Stefan smiles, sticking the post-it back down. When Colin sees, he shoots a smirk, like he already knows what it says; although, Stefan imagines, knowing Kitty so well, that Colin truly _does_ know what it says.

“So,” Colin says, handing him a cup of tea, then holding out a tab on the edge of his finger, “wanna get absolutely fucked?”

“Yes,” Stefan says, before even a moment has passed. No time for such a decision to impact anybody but him.

This, he thinks, is the right timeline.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked! Leave a comment if you fancy :^)
> 
> Title from _Are 'Friends' Electric?_ by Tubeway Army, a fuckin brilliant song from my 'creating shit' playlist.


End file.
